Rooks and Pawns
by ThinkingBeforeTalking
Summary: Gushy mushy touchy feely claptrap. (special guest Lucian)
1. Rooks and Pawns

"You know ... this whole splitting wood in a t-shirt thing is kinda hot. You should really call me next time you run out of fire wood." Smiling as her truck rolled up next to me and came to a stop.

I was a little breathless from the manual labor but also from the sight in front of me.

Vic curled her index finger signaling me to come closer. I leaned in through the driver seat window for a kiss when a familiar voice blared through the radio.

"VIC! Are you there yet?"

"Yes Ruby ... and no, I haven't told him yet."

"Tell me what?"

.  
.

"Why haven't you been visitin'? There's no one at the facility that plays chess, and I might be edgin' closer to taking that 12 gauge and aiming it at my head ... just so I had somethin' to do." He slumped into the chair in front of my desk.

"I've been busy Lucian ... we've been a little short handed lately... also ... I haven't felt like it."

Branch and Ferg were out on the Rez helping Mathias on a case. And Vic, well, she had to go see Sean in hospital; he had hurt himself quite badly out on a rig.

"Felt like it? You owe me, I hired you, made you a deputy and all but handed sheriff to you on a platter ... "

"One day that trump card is gonna run outta mileage ... (sigh) alright, fine, why don't you set up a game in that cell over there."

"I'm guessing its the one without the jailbird in it."

"His name is Jerry. Be nice."

We picked up 15 year old Jerry Bachenwell this morning trying to hold up the Busy Bee with a fork. From the wide selection of other sharp implements that came with a meal, such as a knife, young Jerry chose a fork. Dorothy, proprietor of the Busy Bee, decided not to press charges since he didn't hurt anyone, seems he was just a little confused and hungry after running away from home. We were holding him until his mother could pick him up, and maybe scare him straight a little bit too.

We were playing for over an hour and I was a little too quiet, even more so than usual. This, did not go unnoticed.

"You know Walt you're not the typical smart guy, aw hell, you can't even beat me at chess and I'm not even that good."

"I've won a few times."

"Only cos I was tired o' winnin'! Also, didn't want you to lose your spirit from losin' all the time."

"Y'know why you're no good at chess?"

"By all means, enlighten me."

"Cos half the time you're thinkin' 'bout why that rook is in that corner. What did it do to deserve banishment to the nethermost regions, to forever roam the board vertically and horizontally ad infinitum."

"Am not."

"Ok, that's true, the rest of the time you're also thinking about the poor pawns and why they have to be sacrificed for the greater good."

"I mean, that's why you didn't charge jailbird Jerry here with assault 'n call social services."

I didn't look up, the eyes betray the lies we choose to live with.

"C'mon Walt I know you. You're not just another cowboy with a swagger and a hat, you've got a big brain but your heart is even bigger. It makes you a good sheriff but more importantly it makes you an even better man. So tell me what's botherin' you before I make myself upchuck from all this gushy mushy touchy feely claptrap."

"It's Vic."

"Geezus, I might as well be talkin' to the ladies in the knittin' lounge. Woman troubles? Really?"

"Remind me why I play with you."

"Ok, ok I ain't dead or blind. Besides, aren't you two married yet? Where is Vic anyway?"

I didn't say anything, hoping the conversation would come to a natural end.

"Oh, that's the problem?"

"Her ex-husband had a bad accident on an oil rig in Alaska. Seems like he neglected to change his next of kin in case of emergencies."

"Is he dead?

"Nope."

"Is he dyin'?

"Nope."

"How long is she gone for?"

"Two weeks."

"That is a long time to visit someone who is neither dead nor dyin'. Is that why you're upset? Cos she's spendin' time with the ex-husband?"

"I'm not upset, just wonderin' ... why she has to stay so long. Also, why he never changed his next of kin a year after the divorce."

"Jealousy is a powerful emotion ... sometimes it illuminates what a man wants."

I focused instead on the lives of rooks and pawns, trying not to linger on Lucian's pint of chessboard wisdom. Was I jealous? If I was, then that would mean ...

"My mom says men don't know what they want."

We both turned our heads to look at the eavesdropper, and with synchronicity:

"Shut up Jerry."  
"Shut up Jerry."

With the previous thought interrupted. "Checkmate."

"I'll be damned ... so it is."

"So, did I really win this time or did you let me?"

"You won on your own accord. It wasn't fair though, you distracted me with all that talk 'bout feelins', made ma brain all squishy."

.  
.

"You know ... this whole cowboy leaning against a truck thing is kinda hot. You should really pick me up at the airport more often."

Vic threw her duffle through the open window and turned back to face me with only a few breaths between us; she rested her right hand over my heart.

"Miss me?"

"Yep."

"Well ... " She moved her hand from my chest slowly teasing her way down to my navel, grabbed the rim of my wranglers and pulled me to her with a jolt.

"... take me home and show me how much cowboy."

"Yes, ma'am."

.  
.

The frenzied pace of the nights proceedings began with a rather clumsy approach from the driveway to the porch through a fury of kisses, while fumbling for both the door and items of clothing. At that moment I thanked my good sense not to put locks on the doors.

We finally made it inside the cabin when, for no apparent reason, she stopped.

"What?" I looked at her worried that I had done something wrong.

"Something's been bothering me."

"And you want to talk about it now?" I asked, still a little breathless.

"While I've been here, I have never seen you ride a horse. Are you even a real cowboy, or just someone who looks great in a hat and wranglers? Which is, by the way, on top of the list of really hot things about you."

"There's a list?"

"A short list, but yes, there's a list. Wait ... don't you have a list for me?"

I paused to think, well, as much thinking that could be done in my condition.

"Think carefully ... a lot of what happens next depends on your answer."

"Don't need one, what I like about you can't be itemized."

"Oh ... you are good."

That caused quite a reaction as she ripped open my shirt and expelled all the buttons. I looked on helplessly as they fell to the ground like confetti. That was my best shirt.

"You know I don't have many to choose from."

"I'll get you a new one ..."

"Might need a few."

"Aren't you optimistic."

I don't quite remember what happened next ... but I do recall it was one of the best nights of my life.


	2. Addendum

"Dad ...? Dad ...? Hellooo? Are you still in bed? It's ok if you wanna sleep in ... I'll just get the coffee started."

A familiar voice echoed through the cabin and stirred me from my sleep. It sounded like Cady, she was probably here for breakfast, after all she did promise to visit more often. But I just needed ten more minutes, so I turned away from the sounds coming from the kitchen and continued to slumber for just awhile longer. Then came the sudden realization and I bolted upright.

"CADY!? Wha ...? ... CADY!? Oh wait... Oh no ... it's ..."

"Yeah dad it's just me ... you want some eggs on toast?"

I could hear her footsteps approaching the bedroom. There was no alarm more effective than a daughters voice when she was about to find her father in a somewhat compromising position.

I hurriedly untangled myself from the sleeping form beside me who didn't move a muscle, obviously a sound sleeper. Fortunately, with my t-shirt already on, all I needed were my pants. Pants ... it seemed like a simple task, scanning and searching the room, I finally spotted them strewn across to the far side, how did they get there? Quandaries to be answered later. I pulled my wranglers up faster than nature had intended, it chafed in all the wrong places, but more importantly, I reached the bedroom door first.

"Heeeeey punk!" Closing the door behind me.

"Sorry dad, I knocked but no one answered, so I figured you were still slee ..." She squinted at me suspiciously and paused.

"Daaaad, do you have company?" She crossed her arms and adorned a sheepish grin, which in combination meant she had invoked the Longmire lie detector. Trouble.

"Uh... no, it's ah .. it's just a mess in there, beer cans ..."

"But I heard something ..." She peered over my shoulder as I questioned the wisdom of not installing locks on the doors.

"Um ... Raccoons ..."

I lamented the tangled web I was weaving.

"Do you want some pancakes?" I ushered her away from the scene of the crime and towards the much less contentious kitchen. Even though it did provide a nice prelude to last night's more amorous activities.

"Uh Dad, why are there buttons all over the place?"


End file.
